


Awards Night

by littlesolnyshka, solnyshka (littlesolnyshka)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Car Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1860255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesolnyshka/pseuds/littlesolnyshka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesolnyshka/pseuds/solnyshka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian borrows one of the perks of the job for a post-awards night quick fix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awards Night

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think xx

Awards nights aren't really his thing, Sebastian thinks to himself, but there are perks. There are rewards for behaving like a trained seal, clapping and smiling at the right times for the expectant crowd and saying the right things while not looking terrified that Marvel will have him shot and killed for giving away too much of their future plans. Today's perk is a limousine with blacked out windows and a locked driver partition window with a fully stocked bar and his girl minus any underwear. 

Yes, he muses. There are most definitely perks in this job.

He paid Marvel's driver way too much in rolled up cash to circle the city aimlessly for a few hours for this, spent the better part of half an hour slowly unbuttoning his girls dress as he watched the lights of outside drift past, trailing his mouth up her throat and across her collarbones and down between her breasts before she finally quirks her mouth at him and shrugs it off, leaving her in a bra that is mostly lace and completely useless. His mouth is warm against her nipples even through the lace and he tastes like whiskey when she licks his bottom lip before settling in his lap- she is so distracted by his mouth on her breasts, laving at her nipples, tugging one then the other between his teeth carefully, feeling herself squirm and moan and tighten her thighs around his, that she doesn't expect his long fingers to stroke an ice cube from their champagne bucket down her spine. 

He spends another half an hour drinking whiskey off her skin while she drinks the rest of the champagne, trickles it down her cleavage and across her belly and in the hollows of her collarbones, getting drunk on more than just the liquor but the smell of her, the warmth, the softness, and the purr of the engine is enough white noise to block out the world.

When she shivers on top of him, Sebastian holds her hips down against his, rolls his own hips up, moans into her neck as she shimmies down and even though he's got one hand fisted in her hair and the other gripping her ass so hard he'll leave bruises- to hold her just where it makes him feel white-hot-oh-fuck-fuck-THERE- he's always been a slut for frottage, the delicious pressure that builds in his lower back and spreads up to flush his chest pink, can't help himself when he grinds his hips into hers, feeling his cock press insistently against the seam of his suit pants, regrets wearing underwear at all as it's just another layer between him and his girl. She reaches down and gets his belt buckle open, shoves his trousers down to his ankles, gets her hand around his aching cock and strokes him slowly, in time with her mouth kissing beneath his ear. Sebastian cants his head back against the seat of the car and his vision goes hazy as she slides down his legs until she's kneeling in front of him, looks up at him through her heavy eyelashes, watches his pupils blow out and his mouth drop open as she licks from the base of his cock until she's swirling her tongue around him, swallowing him down until the head of his cock is nudging the back of her throat. He watches her mouth move and her cheeks hollow, feels the warmth around him, and shuts his eyes before he comes down her throat right that second. 

Each time his thighs tense and the muscles in his sides shiver, when he's moaning and right on the edge of coming in her mouth like he desperately wants to, begs her to let him, his girl pulls back and he takes a shaky breath, sighs her name, writhes in the seat, and this is how she likes him best, her favourite boy- pliable and wanting and filthy with shaky hands and bitten lips and pupils the size of dimes. 

"Let me fuck you," he breathes, hand stroking her hair away from her face again, his thumb against her pink mouth, his thighs either side of her face, "Please," He begs, mouth red, "Get up off your knees and let me fuck you, inimioară mea".

She slides back up onto the seat beside him and he pounces, pushes her against the plush upholstery and then pulls her hips up to meet his mouth, and it's her turn to hold his hair as he licks and sucks and delves and drinks her wetness down as she trembles with her thighs over her shoulders, one hand wrapped around an armrest and one clutched in his soft hair. He pins her hips down to stop her from moving and works his mouth over her just right, just-right-there-fuck-don't-stop-oh-god until he tastes her properly, tangy and sweet and slippery and fucking perfect, grinds his mouth down until he's wet to his cheekbones. With a hand splayed across her stomach, he watches the way the pink high on her cheeks spreads to her breasts as he slides a finger inside her slowly, and that's it, her pelvic muscles drag down along his finger and her hands wrench at his hair and she's coming, moaning with her head thrown back, holding his mouth perfectly still while his tongue smooths through the aftershocks. It's not until his girl lets go of his hair that Sebastian drags his mouth off of her pussy reluctantly, before kissing her properly, and it's not all chaste and caring and innocent like they did for the cameras earlier, this is deep and messy and frantic and she can taste herself in his mouth, tastes the liquor-cigarettes-spearmint-lust on his tongue. He curls his smooth hand, long delicate fingers, around the back of her neck as they kiss and she's already got her hand between them gripping his cock, stroking him towards desperation again, positioning her hips just-perfectly-so so he can finally bury himself inside of her. 

It leaves her breathless for a second as he moans into the shell of her ear, whispers to her, says things to her like "I want to feel you come around my cock" and "I want this forever, for-fucking-ever, oh-my-god-you-feel-so-hot-fuck" and fucks her perfectly, makes sure he gets her rhythm and her sweet spots and the things that make her purr like the engine of the limousine. He keeps his pace steady, can feel her breathing quicken and the tiny little mewls from her throat become begging and pleading for him to keep going, keep-going-like-that-yes-please-please, before her vision whites out and she comes again, crying out so loudly he puts his hand against her mouth to muffle her moans, but he's too far gone to stop her and she floats back down enough that she feels him come inside of her, hot and wet and pulsing in time with his heartbeat, feels him rock his hips against hers staccato to ride it out, his shoulders damp with sweat as he gasps her name and his whole body shudders with the force of the pleasure that rolls down his spine, presses down against her as he kisses her frantically, his hands everywhere. 

When she wriggles under him he eases off her, grimaces when he sees the state of the car, peers out the dark tinted one-way window onto a dark street as their car cruises without a destination, starts looking for their clothes strewn everywhere. Her delicate silk dress was underneath the seat, crumpled and damp. 

"Is this yours?" He asks, tentatively, holding her dress up by it's delicate edge.  
"Yes, it's mine," she laughs, "not a rental, we don't have to face any angry designers."  
"Is it couture?"  
"Yes. But I don't mind that it's ruined."

He presses a button on the intercom to buzz their driver, "Heeey," he says, New York accent breaking through. The driver clicks back through the intercom just as his girl found her underwear and slid the strap of her ruined dress up her arm. "Ready? Hometime?"

"Hometime. Thank you."


End file.
